


The Magic of Christmas

by Squid_Ink



Category: Naruto
Genre: Christmas, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obito recounts the Christmas when he was fourteen was a magical time, and he learned what it truly mean to love and forgive, by helping Madara, a lonely old man, reconnect with someone from his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magic of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rogue_Angle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Rogue_Angle).



The Magic of Christmas

 

 

 

My parents died when I was very young, I barely remember them and most of my memories are from stories other people have told me about my parents. When I was around ten or eleven I was taken in by Namikaze Minato and his wife, Kushina. They were the closest things I ever had in the way of real parents.   
Christmas was always a favorite holiday of mine. I loved everything about the season. The cookies, the presents, setting up the tree and the Christmas Village. Also, there was always fresh snow around the tenth of December. My friends and I would often have snowball fights in the front yards of the neighbourhood houses. It was the Christmas of my fourteenth year that impacted me the most, one I'll never forget as long as I lived, for it truly brought home the meaning of love, family and ultimately Christmas. 

 

***

 

“Oh great,” Rin groaned as Kakashi and I stared at the white splattering of snow on the dark window of the house across the street. “That's Old Man Madara's house! If he—”  
I never did find out what Rin was going to say for the door to the house opened up and a bent old man with a cane shuffled out of the door and onto the porch. His long hair was spiky and in disarray, probably black but now a brilliant silver. His face was wrinkly (thought not as wrinkly as some other old people) and his lips were in scowl.   
“What are you three brats doing throwing rocks at my window!” he snarled shaking his cane at us.   
“Uuh, it was just a snowball, gramps!” I called out.   
“Obito!” Rin hissed. “Don't try to reason with him! There's a reason people call him Mad Madara!”   
“He's just an old man, Rin,” I pointed out. “Old people are mostly harmless. It's the sprightly ones you have to worry about and by the looks of it he's not a sprightly one.”   
“Uh-huh.” Rin didn't seem convinced.   
“Looks like he found the rock I hid in the snowball.” Kakashi pointed to across the street were the old man was inspecting his window. I could see the dark speck in the snow that was the rock Kakashi had worked into it.   
“You were gonna throw that at me!? That's cheating Kakashi!”   
“I thought we were having a snowball fight, ninja style? Don't ninja play dirty?” Kakashi asked. Sometimes this guy really irritated me. He could be so cool and aloof even when I'm breathing down his neck he would never show any emotion other than apathy.   
“We're honorable ninja!” I snapped back at him.   
“Oh crap, he's coming this way! Quick Kakashi, Obito! Let's get out of here before he beats us!” Rin shouted, backing away from the approaching senior citizen. He stopped a few feet from us. He was in nothing more than a fuzzy black bathrobe, lounge pants and slippers. I wondered if his feet were cold due to the snow. He had both hands on top of his cane and was leaning on it slightly. He looked at each of us with his one visible eye, the other hidden by a shock of hair.   
“Which one of you,” he said in a gravely voice, “threw that snowball at my window?”   
The three of us swallowed, glanced at each other before swallowing again. We remained silently, not wanting to confess to the crime.   
“If you speak up now and are honest with me, I won't tell your parents,” he licked his lips, “but if I have to go asking around, it won't be pleasant for the culprit.” He said.   
Kakashi had done it, and the snowball was aimed for my head. I just happened to duck at the last minute and it sailed pass and hit the window. Ultimately, it was Kakashi's fault but I wasn't about to let my friend take the fall. “I did it. I threw that snowball.” I said, taking a step forward.   
“No, Obito!” Rin whined. Madara looked up at her, his frown deepening.   
“Come off it girl, I'm not going to eat him! What do you take me for, a cannibal?”   
That was precisely what Rin thought of him, I was going to tell Madara that and he didn't need to know, but I'm sure he guessed it because Rin's face visibly paled after he said that. Madara snorted and looked at me. “So you did it?” he asked me.   
“Yep, found the rock and rolled it in snow. I was aiming for Kakashi's head but he ducked and the ball went flying over the street and smack! Hit your window.” I grinned broadly, hoping he'd by the yarn.   
Madara arched his brow and glanced over his shoulder at the window then back at me. “You're covering for your friend, aren't you?”   
I blinked rapidly and lifted my ski goggles up onto my forehead to glare at him better. “What? No!” I shook my head as I folded my arms. “I'm many things, but I'm not a dirty liar.”   
Madara snorted. “I've been watching you three have snowball fights all afternoon. I know your aim sucks and you don't have the strength to throw the snowball across the street. Your friend does.”   
My shoulders slumped and Rin let out a whimper. “But,” Madara went on, “I'll accept that you want to take the fall. Come with me,” he said and turned around, heading towards his house.   
“Wha?” I stared after him in open mouth bewilderment.   
“Don't go Obito. I heard that Asuma went into that house and was never seen from again.” Rin whimpered.   
“Asuma went to Sapporo with his family, Rin,” Kakashi pointed out. Rin glared at him and like always, Kakashi shrugged it off.   
“Anyway,” I said puffing out my chest. “A man's gotta keep his word.” I lowered my goggles over my eyes and followed Madara. 

Madara's house was lit but it was a bit dim due to the fact he had all the currents pulled over the windows. “Luckily, the rock didn't break the glass. But as punishment for throwing it in the first place you are to work for me, for two hours every day until the new year.” Madara said after I closed the door behind me. I nodded, looking around the room. The walls were bear, save for a few pictures of what I assumed were the old man's family, a picture of a fierce samurai looking man with a bad taste in eye shadow hung over the fireplace and a set of samurai swords were on the mantel, the swords looked centuries old. “Did you hear me?”   
“Huh? What did you say?” I asked, snapping out of my daze.   
“I asked you who are your parents?” Madara groused.   
“Oh.” I blinked before looking away. I kicked my shoes off before heading to the kitchen where he was and taking a seat at one of the stools. “My parents are dead. They died when I was little. I was shuffled between relatives before the Namikazes took me in. Now I live with them and I babysit for them on weekends.” I said, smiling up at Madara.   
“You live with the flunkey, Minato?” Madara asked.   
“Hey! Namikaze Minato isn't a flunkey! He's the coolest guy ever!”   
“Hn.” Madara snorted. “Takes one to know one, I guess.”   
I glared at the man for several seconds before looking around the room. It was then that I realized there were no Christmas decorations. “Where are all your Christmas decorations?”   
Madara glowered at me as if I just mortally offended him. “Got rid of all that shit years ago.”   
“But why? Christmas is the most amazing holiday!” I said.   
“It's over commercialized bullshit. That's what it is. Duping parents into buying the latest and greatest for their spoiled worthless kids that don't even appreciate the year's hard work their parents put in to get them that rubbish! Then as soon as the new year hits they demand the same gizmo but only it's been updated and repackaged!” Madara growled as he began to putz in the kitchen making tea.   
“But... Christmas is also about love and family.”   
“That's what the Hallmark Channel would have you believe. Where is my family? Dead and gone. That's what. Are they going to come and visit me as spirits? Hell no. Do they still love me? They're dead. The dead don't love.”   
I couldn't believe how... cold this old man was viewing the world. I wondered what happened to him in his past to make him see this way. “But what about baby Jesus?” I asked. Surely, if anything, he can acknowledge Christmas for at least it's religious aspects and traditions.   
“You mean the man that died for a bunch of selfish bastards? The religious nutcases would have you believe the holiday is about his birth, when historically he was probably born closer to Easter if anything.”   
“How can you hate Christmas!” I screeched. He scowled at me.   
“Hate's a strong word, boy. And I've been alive a very long time. I know a thing or two about the world that you'll learn if you live to reach my age,” he looked me up and down, “if your stupidity doesn't kill you first.”   
“I resent that! I'm plenty bright!” I objected. He grunted, got a cup down and poured his tea, not even bothering to offer me any.   
“What's your name?” he asked after a moment. I stared at him before swallowing.   
“I'm Uchiha Obito.” I said, “Why?”   
“Uchiha...” he murmured before taking a sip of tea. “Well, family is family I suppose, even if it's extended family.” He sat a little straighter and looked down at me. “I'm Uchiha Madara.”   
I stared at him, “Am I suppose to know that name or something?”   
Sighing, he looked away. “Kids these days.” He got up, took another cup from the cupboard, empty a packet of instant coco mix into it before adding hot water. He shoved the cup and a candy cane before me. “Drink that and then head home, be back here after school understand. And tell your flunkey guardian the arrangement, understand.”   
“Uuuh... okay,” I muttered, looking at him warily. I unwrapped the candy cane and stuck it into my coco, stirring it lazily. We drank our drinks in silence. Once I was finished, I shoved the rest of the candy cane into my mouth and went over to the landing to put my shoes back one. There was a little table near the door, with a picture frame resting face down. Curiosity got the better of me and I picked it up.   
The photo was an old black and white, looked to be around the fifties. I recognized Madara as the slightly shorter man with spiky black hair, a smile that looked serious yet held hidden kindness, and his signature shock of hair over his right eye. I didn't recognize the other man with him, but they seemed to know each other and were shaking hands and holding something. They must've won an award. “Hey, who's this?” I asked, turning around to Madara and pointing at the man in the photo. I never seen Madara move so quickly. He snatched the picture out of my hand and slammed it back, face down, onto the little table.   
“Get out.” He growled.   
“But I—”  
“Get out, now!”   
I didn't protest again, slipped my shoes on and quickly left his house. I glared at the now closed door, wondering what his problem was before heading home. The sky was already starting to get dark, so I flipped up the collar of my jacket and trotted down the street towards home. 

“You're back late,” Kushina commented when I came in. Naruto was already in his high chair, throwing cheerios around, a big grin on his face. He was only a year old and thought that everything was super amazing in the world. I took my goggles off and set them on the tabletop of his high chair.   
“Da da?” he looked at me, his tiny hands grabbing my goggles. I nodded and he grinned before he began to chew on the spandex strap. Apparently, this was much more entertaining to him than throwing cheerios.   
“Sorry. We kinda got into a rough spot with, Uchiha Madara.” I admitted sitting at the table. “Kakashi throw a snowball at his window, it had a rock in it. I took the blame so now I have to go and work for him two hours after school until new year.” I grumbled, not liking that I have to spend my winter vacation working for a bipolar old man.   
“Uchiha Madara?” Minato asked, as he walked into the room. He ruffled Naruto's blond hair, the little boy looking up at his father. I was instantly jealous of Naruto, having both of his parents alive, but it was short lived, it wasn't his fault my parents were dead.   
“Yeah.”   
“You know he was a decorated veteran of WWII. His brother died in the attack on Pearl Harbour,” Minato said.   
“How do you know that?” I looked at my adoptive father, even I didn't know that Madara was a veteran.   
“I interviewed him for a history project,” Minato said.   
“Oh, he called you a flunkey,” I said.   
“He wasn't too fond of me.”   
“Yeah. He doesn't like Christmas either,” I muttered, folding my arms on the tabletop before resting my chin on them.   
“Well Obito, maybe you should bring him some Christmas cheer,” Kushina said. “You are going to be spending two hours with him every day. I know we have some spare lights and decorations in the attic you can take over.”   
“He'll probably throwing everything away,” I grumbled.   
“Not if you tell him it's for something other than Christmas,” Kushina said, winking at me. I turned the thought over in my head, and decided that she was right. If Madara was lead to believe that the decorations were for something other than Christmas, he'll probably leave them alone.   
“Alright, I'll take them over there tomorrow.”   
“That's the spirit!” Kushina grinned. “This is doing a good selfless deed. You'll remember this for years.”   
“I guess,” I muttered.   
“Trust me, you'll see.” Kushina went back to stirring the soup in the pot. I didn't believe her at the time, but she turned out to be right. 

 

***

 

Madara opened the door when I rang the doorbell. Kushina an I agreed that I should piece-meal the decorations into Madara's house. I first started with Christmas lights, they were all in a jumbled tangle in an old cardboard box. “What are those?” Madara asked.   
“Lights for your eve,” I said, pointing to the edge of the roof. “It'll light up the front a bit and deter burglars.”   
“Hn.” Madara didn't believe me, “Ladder is in the garage, the door is open. Come in when you're done for coco.”   
“Oh, you don't have to give me coco.” I said, pulling out a jumble of lights. Madara stopped, glanced over his shoulder at me.   
“He would have offered you coco.” He didn't elaborate on who he was referring to as he shuffled into the house and closed the door. I lifted my ski goggles from my eyes, blinking.   
“Strange old geezer,” I muttered before going about my task of untangling the lights. It was slow going, and I soon found myself sitting in the snow, untangling the lights when Rin and Kakashi came over.   
“Obito, you aren't dead!” Rin squealed, throwing herself at me. I felt my cheeks tint, I've had a crush on Rin for as long as I could remember. She never seemed to return them with anything other than kindness and friendship, she also had a crush on Kakashi.   
“Of course not!” I replied, grinning. “He's not that bad. Cranky but not a cannibal.”   
“So, what is he having you do?” Kakashi asked, eyeing the box of lights. He tugged the scarf on his face up a little higher.   
“I'm putting up lights. It's to deter burglars and light up the front of the house,” I said. “Well, I'll be putting them up as soon as I get them all untangled.”   
“They're Christmas lights,” Kakashi pointed out bluntly.   
“Shhh!” I pressed my finger to my lips. “Old man hates Christmas. Though, I'm sure he knows what they are.” I worked as I explained the situation and Kushina's plan to Kakashi and Rin. I had the bundle of lights untangled, but there were still three more jumbles to go.   
“Why don't we help you put the lights up?” Rin asked. “I mean, we are all sorta responsible for the window.”   
“And knowing you, you'll probably end up stapling your hand to the eve,” Kakashi said, “or electrocute yourself making sure the lights work.”   
“I'm not that much of a klutz Kakashi!” I shouted. The door opened behind us and Madara exited the house.   
“Why are your friends here?” he asked, sizing up Rin and Kakashi.   
“They want to help me with the lights,” I said. Madara glanced at the lights then at Kakashi and Rin.   
“They can have coco afterward as well,” he said after a moment and went back into the house.   
“He'll poison the coco,” Rin muttered. “I'm not touching it.”   
“He gave me coco yesterday with a candy cane. Do I look dead to you?” I asked Rin.   
“N-No... but,” Rin swallowed. “I guess one cup couldn't hurt. Where's the ladder?” Rin asked.   
“In the garage, it's open apparently.” I said, setting aside a now untangled jumble of lights. Kakashi squatted next to me and began work on another jumble. Rin went off to the garage, the door groaning as it was forced open. She came back with a ladder and a staple gun.   
Kakashi took it upon himself to start stapling the lights to the eve, Rin finished untangling them and I checked to make sure all the lights worked. By the time we finished the sun was almost set in the west. Madara came out just as I plugged the lights in. They shown brightly, an odd mix of white and colored lights. Thankfully none of the segments were flashing. “Well?” I looked at Madara. “Took longer than I expected but we got them up.”   
“Hn.” He shuffled back inside. “Coco is ready,” he said. The three of us shuffled inside after him. We took our places around his counter top as he poured three cups of coco, sticking a candy cane in each before giving each of us a cup. He sat down himself, with a cup of green tea. We sipped our drinks in silence.   
“Why don't you have any Christmas decorations?” Rin asked, as she looked around his house.   
“Don't celebrate,” Madara grumbled.   
“Why not? Don't your grandchildren come by for Christmas?” Rin stirred her coco with her candy cane. Madara barked a laugh, shaking his head.   
“Never married. My sweetheart was a nurse, died during the war when the Japanese bombed her camp in the Pacific. Never found anyone special like her again.” Madara sipped his tea, his eyes were downcast and I knew he was thinking about the man in the photo I saw yesterday. Maybe he did find someone special again but wasn't about to let three strange neighbourhood kids in on it.   
“Oh, that's so sad.” Rin pouted, she reached across and grabbed his boney liver-spotted hand. “I'm sorry.”   
Madara blinked at her, a small smile tugging at his lips before he took his hand away. “It was a long time ago. Finish your coco and get out of my hair,” he groused. Rin's shoulders slumped and she looked at her coco, before glancing at me. I gave her a grin and mouthed don't worry about it. She smiled a bit and took a sip of her coco.   
“Mmm, this is really good. Thank you Mr. Madara.”   
Madara grumbled, but he seemed to be please. “I want you to do something about the snow tomorrow understand?” he looked at me.   
“Oh, of course!” I nodded.   
“Good.” He refilled his cup as we finished off our coco. Kakashi and Rin said their goodbyes and I was about to leave when I thought to ask Madara about the man in the photo.   
“So, who is that man?” I asked. “The one in the photograph?”   
Madara scowled at me. “Go away, I'll tell you tomorrow.” I was about to protest when I heard Rin call me. Putting on my boots, I left his house. 

It continued like that for a few more days. I shoveled snow from his walkway, collected his mail and did odd jobs around the house. Whenever he didn't really have something for me to do, I brought over the old Christmas decorations from the Namikazes' attic. Madara didn't seem to mind in the least, though he acted like it was a burden upon him. He slowly told me more about himself. How his parents immigrated from Japan to the US before the war. How he met his sweetheart and how his brother died in the bombing of Pearl Harbour. He actually made a vague passing reference to it, I guess the subject was still extremely painful even after all these years. Just goes to show you that time doesn't heal all wounds.   
He glossed over the war, though he mentioned a close friend. A man by the name of Senju Hashirama. Hashirama apparently wasn't much of a soldier, more of a scholar and was in charge of teaching Japanese linguists for the Army. Madara a translator for his regiment and had fought with the Marines at Iwo Jima. The limp he had in his left leg was from an old bullet wound. They had met when they were both reassigned to Japan after the Japanese surrendered to be translators for the US military.   
With each story he told me, the more and more I respected him and could understand why he would be bitter and cynical about the war.   
It was the day before Christmas Eve, his birthday was tomorrow he had told me. He was going to be ninety-six. I looked about his now much cheerier house, eating some cookies and drinking coco. He had paused in his story, staring up at the picture of the Uchiha Family's ancestor. A man by the name of Ootsutsuki Indra, a prince of some sort by the fact that he shaved his eyebrows. “It'll be nearly fifty years since that day,” he muttered.   
“Since what day?” I asked. The old man had never got emotional on me before.   
“Since I've seen Hashirama.” He brought his head down to stare at the tea in his cup. “1969 was a very... interesting time in America. I guess you can say it was the sexual revolution, all the children of the baby boom were young men and women now and were experimenting with drugs and sex. It was a crazy time. Hashirama embraced the revolutionary thinking, he was going to come out, he wanted me to do so as well. I refused.” He gave a tired sigh. “We got into a huge fight and I refuse to make amends. Haven't spoken to him since that summer.”   
“Wait, where was he coming out from?” I asked. Madara glowered at me.   
“I'm gay, boy. So is Hashirama. We fell in love while we were in Japan. We kept our relationship secret for years. It wasn't a pretty place to be if you were gay. It's gotten better since. He wanted to come out during 1969 but I refused, thus the fight.”   
“Oh. Sorry.”   
Madara snorted and took a sip of tea. “He and I haven't spoken to each other for years, yet out of the blue I get this letter last week. From some woman named Senju Tsunade.” He pulled a crumpled looking letter out of the pocket of his robe. He must've kept it with him since he got it. He leaned forward and handed it to me.   
I took the letter, it was open at the top and pulled out the stationary paper. I read the letter, it was written in a neat hand, though the signature at the bottom was an illegible scrawl, typical of a doctor's. “His granddaughter?” I looked up at Madara.   
“Apparently, after the fight we had, Hashirama lost his courage to come out. He settled down with some woman named Mito and had a family. Tsunade is his oldest grandchild, she tracked me down, apparently Hashirama is in the hospital...” Madara swallowed, “dying.”   
My jaw hung open and I stared at me. “Of what?”   
“Kidney failure. Doctors say he doesn't have much longer. Tsunade wants me to come by and see him before he goes.”   
I noticed Madara's shoulders shaking and his hands hands clutched the tea cup tightly.   
“Then why don't you go? He's your best friend right? You should at least get the chance to say goodbye!” I said. Madara looked at me, tears were rolling down his wrinkled cheeks and I suddenly felt bad for the old man. He was all alone and now he finds out his best friend and former lover was dying.   
“How can I go to Hashirama after all the nasty things I had said to him? I'm not the man he remembers. I'm a cynical bitter curmudgeon. Not the idealistic young man he fell in love with.”   
I didn't say anything for several moments before getting up and leaning against the armrest of his chair. “Madara,” I said, “if there is one thing I learned in my entire life is that love is super forgiving. Minato and Kushina didn't have to take me in, but they did. I actually threw a rock at their window and broke it. Most normal people would have called the cops and get me into juvi, but not them. They took me in and treated me like family.”   
Madara snorted, looking away. I continued. “My point is that Hashirama probably doesn't care about what you said to him fifty years ago. All that matters to him now, is see you, his friend, the person he fell in love with. You should at least see him before he dies. I mean, it's Christmas! It's all about love and forgiveness right?”   
“I don't drive...” Madara muttered.   
“Tell you what. I'll ask Minato to take us. Tomorrow. We're going to reunite you Hashirama!” I grinned.   
“You'd do that?” he looked at me, baffled. “But why?”   
“Because,” I smiled at him, “nobody deserves to be alone on Christmas or their birthday.”   
Madara bowed his head, his hair hiding the smile on his lips. “Very well.” 

Minato agreed to drive Madara and I to the hospital where Hashirama was staying at. Madara had dressed up in his best suit and tie. I helped him down his walkway since it was slippery, though he groused when I tried to help him into the car. We drove to the hospital the was mentioned in the letter, nobody spoke, and classical Christmas music played softly from the car's radio.   
The hospital was like any hospital, though there was a large wreath on the central building, it's lights were on and pulsated dimly. I looked at Madara who was gripping his cane tightly. I gave him an encouraging smile. “I'll stay here with the car why you two go in alright?” Minato said.   
“Yeah, that's fine,” I agreed as Minato parked the car. Madara and I got out and we headed into the lobby of the hospital.   
We looked around until I found a counter and walked up towards it. “Can I help you?” a pretty young nurse asked.  
“Yeah, we're looking for a Dr. Senju? Her grandfather is in the hospital.” I said, smiling at her.   
“And who are you?” the nurse asked. I stammered.   
“He's with me,” Madara spoke up. “Dr. Senju's grandfather is an old friend of mine. I'm here to visit him. So please fetch Dr. Senju for us.”   
“Oh... erm, yes, right away,” the nurse said and picked up the phone to page the good doctor. I looked over at Madara, he gave me a wink and a smile, I chuckled and soon a woman, somewhere in her mid thirties came into view. Her blond hair was in pigtails and she was rather busty.   
“I was paged?” she asked, before looking at me and Madara. “What do you want brat?” she asked.   
“That brat is with me,” Madara said looking at the woman. “I'm surprised your grandfather didn't teach you better manners.”   
The woman stared at him. “Are you Madara?” she asked.   
“I am. And I'm assuming your Tsunade.”   
“That's correct,” she said and her smile softened. “Come this way. He's doing a better today.”   
I suddenly felt a hand gripping my shoulder tightly, I looked over to see Madara. “Walk boy,” he growled. I did and he leaned his tired old body against mine as he entered the hospital. 

He stopped at the door to Hashirama's private room. Tsunade had went in first to make sure her grandfather was alert and that he was able to receive company. She poked her head out. “Okay, you can see him,” she said. I looked up at Madara, who swallowed and walked in ahead of me. I followed behind, not wanting to encourage of the reunion of two old men.   
Senju Hashirama was a far cry from the athletic looking young man in the photograph I saw at Madara's house. Hashirama looked like a shriveled prune, his waist long hair was a snowy white, an IV was in his left hand and a breathing monitor on his left index finger. Oxygen tubes rested just below his nose, pushing in fresh oxygen to help him breath better. Behind him were machines and monitors that hummed and beam constantly; checking his vital signs. Yet, his eyes, a brilliant hazel were still bright with life. He turned his head and looked at us.   
“Madara? Madara is that really you?” he asked in a weak raspy voice. He probably rarely spoke much these days. I couldn't see Madara's face but I noticed that his shoulders shook.   
“Y-Yes, Hashirama,” Madara replied, emotion choking his own voice. “It's me.”   
Hashirama grinned, “Madara. Oh, Madara it's so good to see you.” He reached out with his frail looking hands, Madara limped forward and grabbed Hashirama's hands. “You look good,” Hashirama said, smiling.   
“I'm sorry,” Madara forced out. “I'm sorry about everything I said that day. I take all of it back. Every single word.”   
“Oh,” Hashirama muttered, a sad smile on his lips, “well I forgave you a long time ago. It's over and done with. What's matters now is that you are here.”   
“Yes, and you weren't suppose to leave yet. We were suppose to die together,” Madara said as he fumbled for a seat. “Bastard,” he groused. Hashirama laughed weakly.   
“Don't be too hasty in wishing for death, Madara. I still feel like I have so much more to do.”   
“I've been so lonely all these years,” Madara whispered. “I can't lose you again... not now after I finally found you again.” Madara touched Hashirama's withered cheek. “I love you,” he breathed.   
Hashirama leaned into the touch, squeezing Madara's hand. “I love you too, Madara,” he looked over at me, “but by the looks of things it seems you won't be alone. You seem to have made at least one friend in the our separation.”   
I glanced up at the two old men before looking away. Madara chuckled and agreed that I was his friend. The two of them continued talking about the past until Tsunade gently informed Madara that her grandfather needed to rest and visiting hours were almost over. “Can I com back tomorrow?” Madara asked.   
“Certainly, he'll like that.” Tsunade agreed.   
“You here that Hashirama? You can't die tonight. You have to at least live until the twenty-sixth.” Madara growled at the bedridden old man. Hashirama laughed.   
“Very well.” Hashirama grinned. I stood up and pushed the door open for Madara when Hashirama said, “Oh and Madara?”   
“Hn?” Madara looked over his shoulder at Hashirama.   
“Happy birthday,” Hashirama said. Madara grinned, tears filling in his eyes.   
“Thank you, Hashirama,” he said softly and left the hospital room. We reached the car a few minutes later, Tsunade informing me that we can stop by anytime. Madara and I thanked her before getting into the car.   
“Well?” Minato asked.   
“Just take me back to my house, flunkey,” Madara growled.   
“It went well,” I said as Minato chuckled and drove out of the parking lot. The song finished on the radio and soon Silent Night was filling the car, I watched as Christmas lights twinkled as snowflakes drifted down, Madara was singing softly along to the Christmas carol. 

 

***

 

For the rest of the year, Madara and I went to the hospital every after noon, staying until visiting hours were over. Minato or Kushina drove us and it was nice to see Madara being less cranky. School started up again the first Monday of January and that was when tragedy struck; I was informed, after I got home, that Senju Hashirama had passed away silently in the night. I went to Madara's place and simply sat with him while he coped with his grief. We went to Hashirama's funeral the next week.   
I continued to visit Madara every day after school, until his death the following year, he was ninety-seven.   
Rin and I eventually married and had three children. Every Christmas she and I visit the local graveyard, where I put a wreath on Madara and Hashirama's graves. Tsunade had allowed Madara to be buried beside her grandfather. That was were Rin found me.   
“Kids are in the car,” she said.   
“Alright,” I said, straightening, looking down at the graves.   
“Everything alright honey?” she asked.   
“Yeah, I'm just thinking,” I said as I headed towards her and the car. I stopped before getting in looking up at the snowflakes as they lazily drifted down. “Oh look, it's snowing,” I whispered.   
“Yeah, it is,” Rin nodded as we both got in. I looked over at my kids, napping in the car. I smiled, before starting the vehicle. The radio turned on and the DJ named the next song, but I wasn't paying attention until I heard the familiar melody of Silent Night. Smiling to myself, I began to sing. 

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Madara! 
> 
> Even though the setting is based off of the Inland Northwest of the United States, I prefer the Japanese name orientation oppose to the English one when using characters of Japanese origin. 
> 
> Madara was born in 1918 and joined the US Marines at 23, he was 95 years old (going on 96) during the majority of the story. 
> 
> I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


End file.
